Chapter 5 - The Trap Closes
"Perspective?" I laughed bitterly, the sound echoing off the mahogany walls. "You murdered my wife, you destroyed my family, and you turned my own flesh and blood into your accomplices. That's not perspective, Mr. Vance. That's a federal penitentiary sentence."
Vance chuckled softly, standing up from his desk and walking leisurely toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. He looked out over the city, hands resting casually in his trouser pockets.
"Federal penitentiary?" he repeated, turning back to face me with an expression of supreme amusement. "Alex, look around you. Who do you think owns the contracts for this city's municipal security grid? Who do you think funds the re-election campaigns of the district attorney, the police chief, and half the state judiciary? A mid-level logistics worker walks into corporate headquarters making wild, unsubstantiated accusations of murder and industrial espionage against a regional executive. Do you honestly believe a single judge in this state would sign an arrest warrant based on your word?"
"I don't need my word," I said, pulling my hand out of my pocket and holding up Clara's un-synced flash drive. "I have the digital ledger, the encrypted transfer logs linking your personal server to my brother's laptop, and a full forensic dump of Clara's phone detailing every conversation she had with Derek regarding your extortion ring."
For the first time, a flicker of genuine tension crossed Richard Vance's face. His eyes locked onto the flash drive in my hand.
"You're a resourceful man, Alex. I'll give you that," Vance said quietly. He stepped toward his desk, his hand hovering near the edge of the blotter. "It’s a shame you didn't learn when to look the other way. Curiosity is a dangerous trait in our line of work."
Before Vance could finish his sentence, the heavy mahogany double doors of the executive suite flew open with a deafening crash.
"FBI! Federal Bureau of Investigation! Nobody move!"
Half a dozen tactical agents in full riot gear streamed into the room, their assault rifles raised, sweeping the corners of the office with laser precision. Behind them walked Detective Sergeant Vance from the local precinct, flanked by two federal prosecutors holding thick manila folders.
Richard Vance froze, his hand still hovering over his desk. The color completely drained from his face, leaving him looking suddenly old and frail.
"Richard Vance, you are under arrest for corporate espionage, extortion, conspiracy to commit murder, and obstruction of justice," the lead federal prosecutor announced, stepping forward and flashing a federal warrant directly into the executive's face.
Vance looked from the federal agents to me, his jaw clenching with impotent rage. "This is a setup. This data was obtained illegally—"
"The data was transmitted automatically to a secure federal server the moment my phone synced with the perimeter relay outside your lobby twenty minutes ago," Detective Vance interrupted, stepping up beside me with a satisfied smirk. "Thanks for letting him walk right into the lion's den, Richard. It gave our cyber-units the exact window they needed to override your corporate firewall and download your entire master ledger."
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As federal agents forced the billionaire executive to his knees, slapping heavy steel handcuffs around his wrists, I felt a massive, suffocating weight lift off my chest.
It was over. The architect of my family's nightmare was finally caught in a trap of his own making.
